Chapter 436
Chapter 436:
“To us,” he said, clinking his glass against hers.
Skye took a sip. The wine tasted like vinegar. She was mentally mapping the room. Gun on the table, three feet away. Door locked. Bathroom to the left.
Lucian took the glass from her hand and set it down. He leaned in, his hand cupping her jaw.
“You are beautiful when you surrender,” he whispered.
He moved to kiss her. Skye forced herself not to recoil. She closed her eyes, counting the seconds.
One. Two. Three.
A loud, booming crash echoed from the hallway outside. It sounded like a breaching charge.
The lights in the suite flickered and died.
The power cut out completely. The room plunged into absolute darkness.
Lucian moved instantly. The languid lover vanished, replaced by the soldier. He shoved Skye off his lap, rolled to the floor, and grabbed his gun from the table in one fluid motion.
“Get down!” he hissed.
Skye didn’t need to be told. She scrambled to her hands and knees and dove behind the heavy velvet sofa.
The suite door exploded inward.
It wasn’t a kick this time. It was a shaped charge. The wood splintered into shrapnel, flying across the room. A canister rolled over the carpet, hissing. Smoke billowed out, thick and white, obscuring everything in seconds.
Through the smoke, red laser sights cut the air like angry veins.
“Clear left! Clear right!” voices shouted. Professional. Military.
Gunfire erupted—deafening in the enclosed space. Pop-pop-pop.
Lucian fired blindly into the smoke, three shots in rapid succession. A grunt of pain from the doorway told her he’d hit someone. He was a marksman, even in chaos.
Skye covered her ears, curling into a ball. The noise was a physical assault. The smell of cordite burned her nose.
A figure moved through the smoke with terrifying speed. He didn’t pause at the threshold. He entered the room, low and fast. He wore a tactical vest over a dark suit, his face grim and set in stone.
Alistair Thorne.
ո𝘢𝗏іg𝗮𝘁е е𝖺ѕ𝘪𝗹𝘺 оn 𝖻𝖾.co𝘮
He double-tapped a guard who tried to flank him from the bathroom, the silenced pistol making a thwip-thwip sound.
“Secure the perimeter!” Alistair roared into his comms. “Liam, hold the corridor! Don’t let their reinforcements up p>
“Copy,” a voice crackled back through the earpiece, tight with strain.
Outside in the hallway, Liam Kensington had positioned his wheelchair behind a heavy, overturned catering cart. His shattered leg was extended stiffly, throbbing in time with his heartbeat, but his hands were steady as he rested the barrel of a submachine gun on the metal rim. He couldn’t run, he couldn’t chase, but he could be the wall they couldn’t breach.
“Lucian!” Alistair’s voice boomed, cutting through the chaos inside the suite. “It’s over p>
Lucian realized he was outgunned. He scrambled backward, knocking over a lamp. He looked for an exit, but the balcony doors were now covered by a rappelling figure outside.
He was trapped.
His eyes darted around the room and landed on Skye, peeking out from behind the sofa.
Alistair spotted her at the same moment. He stepped forward, lowering his weapon slightly, his eyes widening with relief.
“Skye p>
That split second of distraction was all Lucian needed. He lunged.
Skye tried to scramble away, her heels slipping on the carpet. Lucian’s hand clamped in her hair, yanking her head back with brutal force. She screamed.